Red Light Host Club
by Insarai Arys
Summary: The twins give Tamaki an Idea. Tamaki presents the Idea to Mori. Mori give Honey cake. Honey gives Haruhi hugs. Haruhi give Kyouya the Evils....And Kyouya just wants the madness to end....
1. Prepartion for Entrance

Kyouya could list on one hand the number of good ideas Tamaki had over the years he had know him. In fact it could probably be rounded down to two fingers. One was the beginning of the Host club...the other the sponsored silence Tamaki had partaken in two years ago. The most blissful twenty minutes of Kyouya's life so far. The number of bad things could not be counted using any amount of fingers and toes unless you were a Martian. They weren't necessarily bad ideas as such...it's just that in Tamaki's hands what would be a laugh and a joke turned into humiliation of the first degree. For Kyouya anyway. The twins were oblivious to the humiliation and only used the ideas to further their twin-cest image, Honey was blissfully happy as long as there was cake around and Mori was happy as long as Honey was happy. Which wasn't difficult to achieve admittedly.

This year however there was Haruhi. She had gone along with most of the ideas willingly enough only a few raised eyebrows and shared glances of frustration with Kyouya as signs of her dissatisfaction. However, now she seemed to be regretting the lack of objections. Kyouya mentally sympathised. The only reason he did not object was because he had already paid for the idea in full with the money from the club profits and most of the items were not returnable. Though he mused, glaring at Tamaki, there was always the option of selling the items in the raffles held around the year.

Tamaki raced around the room, preparing the last decorations and fretting over the flower arrangements. This was Normal Tamaki. His attire, however was not Normal Tamaki. Black leather shorts and an amethyst studded collar went rather fetchingly with the large tag the twins had fitted him with, reading "Tamaki-Pet" in the shape of a heart. His leash hung over his shoulder, it being in the way of the roses Tamaki was trying to arrange.

Kyouya's own outfit was nothing to brag about either. Leather pants, flaring gently over the knee to hide his bare feet did nothing to protect him from the slight breeze from the open windows. His leather harness also attached to a collar didn't help either. And the tag which read "Kyouya-Pet" in a diamond which the twins had forced on him under pain of fitting him with Tamaki's outfit did him no favours.

The twins had provided all of the outfits, advertising their mother's first branch into the BDSM fashion industry. They were attired in black leather short-shorts and tiny, waist-cinching corsets. Kyouya knew how damn tight they were, he had been the one to tighten the things. And yet, the twins sauntered around in them like the iron bands and tight leather were Egyptian cotton shirts. Their collars went well with the ankle and wrist cuffs, also from their mother's line. Leashes were being used to practise their twin-cest act and Kyouya turned away. He was always wary of them mid-act. They had a nasty habit of engaging fellow hosts in their acts and Kyouya really didn't want to be disturbed right now. Not to mention it would be wrong. Very wrong.

Honey raced by, his school uniform firmly in place. However, if Honey wore this normally he would be sent home to change before he set foot in the school building. Obscenely tight shorts and a tiny little shirt and blazer did nothing to conceal what lay beneath and the tie only emphasized the childish sex appeal.

Haruhi stomped past, her face like thunder. Due to Tamaki's...'unfortunate' obsession in getting her into more female clothes, she had lost the draw and landed herself with the classic French Maid's uniform. This French Maid was defiantly not for cleaning the silverware though. Well, unless you were Tamaki or a lounge singer called Vic. Thigh-high skirt, plenty of ruffles and a pair of black fishnet stockings plus a naughty flash of garter belt lent her a very...adult aura. Even though she was meant to be posing as a boy, several centimetres of stomach was revealed and the cleavage was artfully concealed behind a mass of ruffles which only added to the overall impression of 'something' there.

But Mori was the star of the show today. Clothed in what could only be described as Master-ly clothing, he was meant to be the master today. Kyouya had rebelled furiously against the idea but had been out voted because according to Tamaki "Mother doesn't have the height to be a Master of this sort," and then there was the twins' vote of "Besides, Mori's way more threatening that you when he's silent". So he was officially demoted to Mori's pet – Bitch (Tamaki's word not his) – and thus he was situated on a plush pile of antique furs, glaring around at Tamaki's pile of satin cushions, Honey's school area, complete with black board and desk and the twins, situated of course on a four poster bed, playing the tempting seducers.

Haruhi had been regulated to a pile of commoner cushions or 'beanbags' and was current trying to drown her sorrows in...instant coffee. Kyouya had half a mind to go join her and add some hard liquor to the coffee before the patrons descended. Mori waltzed by, his face almost a smirk of happiness. If Kyouya didn't know better, he would say Mori was enjoying have the other ninety percent of the host club as his Bitches for the afternoon.

Clad in a leather trench coat, Mori wore black jeans, a leather harness and plenty of chains. He had a good number of said chains around his waist in a makeshift belt and his boots did nothing to reduce his already impressive height. He was now a grand total of six feet and four and a half inches tall. Various rings and a bracelet also did nothing to detract from the masterful aura he threw out. He was defiantly prepared to meet the patrons and give them his best impression of a Master Host Club ...host.

The door opened, Haruhi and Kyouya tried to bury themselves in beanbags and furs respectively and the patrons froze in the doorway.

And then, just as Tamaki had predicted they swarmed down onto the hosts 'moe-ing' all the while.

And in the midst of all this chaos, Mori stood tall and proud, Tamaki swooned, the twins played it up for all they were worth and Honey was sweet and cute. And Haruhi, dear sweet cynical Haruhi prayed for the madness to end. And Kyouya, he just made a mental note to take this up with his therapist. Next time.


	2. Pet

Kyouya reclined back on his piles of furs, enjoying a brief respite from the moe-ing girls. This idea was, much to his intense displeasure a success. In two hours they had doubled their average income and already made preparations for a photo shoot in two weeks time. Normally this would please him. However, because it was a success it meant once Tamaki got hold of the accounts (and he was bound to, he was the president, no matter what the twins might say), he would say they should do it again. Kyouya didn't think he could take it again. Besides, the leather trousers chafed horribly in places they shouldn't. He would be walking like a saddle-sore cowboy for _weeks_. If not months. And his therapist was going to have a field day with this new experience. Glancing around the room, Kyouya discreetly adjusted himself. Damn that leather was tight and hot. And painfully itchy.

Tamaki was idly charming two pairs of twins at once, playing up the loyal pet part to the max. He was sitting crossed-legged on his mountain of satin cushions, looking for all the world a male concubine. Kyouya shivered. Tamaki was bad enough already and a collar and chain would not help him. He would recite poetry and annoy the hell out of everyone. From his knees.

Karou and Hikaru were lounging around in their bed, whispering sweet nothings in each others ears. The girls surrounding them were enraptured with the scene, blushing and sparkles abound. Karou caught Kyouya's eye. He discreetly held up two fingers, then ten. Twenty minutes before the twins needed out of the corsets before they did some permanent damage to themselves. He was _severely_ tempted to leave them in them for extra time for giving him the itchy leather trousers. But he was merciful. He would let them off. Provided they NEVER put another idea like this one again in Tamaki's head. And they paid for half the costs...Well he was a business man first and foremost. And a sadist.

Honey was sat at his school desk, pretending to be working but sneaking cake when he thought Mori wasn't looking. Fat chance of that. Mori knew every crumb of food that went into Honey's mouth and Kyouya was pretty sure the reason Honey had the cakes in the first place was because of Mori. Kyouya eyed Honey, worrying about the fan girls. For once the girls had the chance to openly engage in secret fantasies about Honey and they took advantage of it. The occasional hand brush and the odd slap to Honey's backside left most of the girls satisfied but several from the upper years just spent the entire time ogling Honey. Out of all of them, Honey had received the second highest number of designations that day; a feat which was remarkable in that it topped both Tamaki's and Kyouya's put together. The highest number of designations was totalled at two hundred and still counting.

Haruhi was entertaining her guests by a combination of dry humour and retelling of old stories of the commoner style. She adjusted her skirt, pulling it down as far as it would reach. It wouldn't go further than mid thigh. And Tamaki had ensured that with the threat of increasing the debt. For once Tamaki had employed a threat against his 'Beloved Daughter'. Dear Lord, would the world end? had been the thought on everyone's mind. Haruhi had shot him down once again in flames, unamazingly enough.

Thank GOD, Haruhi had the sense to refuse the leather panties and bra set with the chains and the whip. Her secret would have been out all over the school in no time. That she was a girl...Not that she was a closet dominatrix. Though, Kyouya mused wickedly, she did know how to put Tamaki down as painfully as possible. She sipped her coffee and her eyes caught Kyouya's. It was not a cry for help; it was not a plea even. It was a goddamn order of "Get me the hell out of here or I will do something you will regret!" Kyouya was only too happy to oblige.

"Excuse me, ladies but I must borrow your charming host for one small moment," He bowed gracefully and extended his hand to Haruhi. She took it, murmuring her apologies to the complaining patrons. "I assure, Mam I shall return," She said dropping a curtsey.

Kyouya hustled her off into the little kitchen. She thumped the kettle on once they were there and the door was shut and nearly broke two cups as she slammed them down onto the granite work surface. For once Kyouya didn't glare at her or reprimand her. He was just all too glad to retreat for a few minutes. Away from Tamaki, away from the patrons and just _away..._ from everything.

"What the hell were they thinking?!" She fumed quietly as the kettle whistled, "it's entirely unfair to the rest of us,"

Kyouya chimed in "Honey really does not care, the twins are relishing this, Tamaki is practically ready to sign up to it full time and Mori...well...you know."

"We're the only ones who don't want to do this..." Haruhi poured the coffee and Kyouya gratefully took an oversized mug's worth. Sighing contently, he noticed something was missing from the strong liquid. Looking around making sure none of the moe-ing fans hadn't snuck in, Kyouya pulled out a tiny hip flask. Pouring a generous measure into his own cup, he raised an eyebrow when a second cup was nudged into view and Haruhi's fingers started tapping. Not objecting he poured the other half of the hip flask into the coffee and they drank deeply together. High quality Russian Vodka and Brazilian coffee both imported from aboard and the Vodka had been stolen from his father's liquor cabinet. He had had a feeling he would be needing it. He had been proved right.

Glancing over at Haruhi, he noted with vague surprise she was drinking her coffee like a professional shot-drinker, poker faced and hard eyes. She noticed his gaze, "If I'm going to go back out there, I'm going to need some courage. And since mine ran out about three hours ago...this'll have to do." Kyouya agreed and raised his mug to hers in salute.

Mori's shadow appeared in the doorway and Kyouya downed the last dregs of coffee. On the other side of the table the French maid did the same.

Mori had...changed. Something inside had clicked with the theme and he was conducting the club with incredible skills. His personality had taken a complete 180 and then gone back and rewritten itself from scratch and then made itself into a pretty collage with glue and scissors. Kyouya didn't want to know how Mori knew how to act. All he knew...he just wanted it to all to go back to normal and NOW.

Mori was meant to be silent, wild but almost completely a part of Honey's act. He wasn't meant to be like this...

"Why are you two in here?" Mori's voice practically purred its way into Kyouya's brain.

He clutched the table and ground out "It's not your choice about what we do." His knuckles were white as he strained not to buckle his knees. It was like liquid chocolate, deep and warm and oh so tempting. Kyouya found himself tilting his head up as Mori came closer. Mori reached out two fingers and raised Kyouya's chin, "Oh but for today it is," He leaned in close, "My pet."


	3. Pole Dancing

Kyouya hated Tamaki. No wait, he loathed him. Wanted him to burn in goddamn HELL. He was never going to forgive him for this...this injustice. He was a bloody heir of the Ootri family and now he was about thirty seconds from stepping on stage to do...that.

Tamaki rushed past, his face plastered with a grin that Kyouya just itched to punch off. Several times. The collar, harness and the leather shorts hadn't changed from the previous event. His attitude toward this...culture had however. Now, for the foreseeable future, Kyouya had to buy specialist equipment from special stores and his bank company was giving him funny looks when he went in to deposit a check. His father was this_ close _to pulling the Host Club for good and the dean was just laughing every time she saw him. Kyouya was just about ready to kill himself to escape the humiliation of the regular pseudo-BDSM sessions and his physiatrist was seriously contemplating sending him for a 'nice rest in the country' as she put it. Read: A stay in a mental hospital. And the scary thing was Kyouya was seriously considering it. He would have nice people to look after him and he wouldn't have to dress up in fucking leather and chains like a kinky bitch.

The twins hadn't fared much better. Contrary to their prediction that it would all blow over in a couple of weeks, Tamaki had seized in the idea and the twins had been the ones to provide the clothing. Their mother was having a ball, designing outfits. The twins were not having a ball wearing them, as the primary components of their outfits were of course...corsets. And for once, Kyouya couldn't wish anything worse on them. They were crammed into the things and neither boy was happy with the situation. They, just as Kyouya was, regretting their rash act of putting the idea in the King's head. This week, tight corsets were accentuated with leather harnesses and handcuffs for Hikaru to use on Karou.

Haruhi appeared silently at Kyouya's shoulder, tapping it lightly. He followed her into the kitchen. Slamming the kettle on, she pulled two mugs out of the cupboard. Familiar with the ritual, Kyouya pulled out a flask from his pocket. Far from the hip flask it had been a mere five weeks ago; it was a full sized juice flask, resurrected from the back of his kitchen cupboard. It still had his sister's stickers on it for the Love of God. But it held twice as much inside and as soon as the mugs had been filled with coffee, Kyouya dumped a healthy amount in each. He considered and dumped another lot in each. They tipped them back and downed the lot in less than a minute. The Vodka burned deliciously as it went down.

Haruhi whacked the kettle on for a second mug. Kyouya pulled up a stool and sat down, his back stretching. His harness pulled in places it shouldn't even touch and he prayed he would be still able to father children in the future. Haruhi's outfit was no better. Once again she had lost the draw and had come out worse in the whole club. A far cry from a demure school girl, she was clad in a school skirt which ended at the knee, a shirt, tied several inches above the belly button and a carefully placed tie and shirt disguised the lack of a chest while convincing the patrons there was something there. Thigh highs and a lacy garter belt completed the outfit along with a pair of dangerously high heels. Pigtails and over exaggerated makeup only added to the outfit. The scowl did not.

Sipping the second cup of coffee (sans the Vodka), Kyouya watched as Honey dashed into the room and snatched a piece of cake before dashing right back out again. Honey's appearance was by far one of the kinkiest today. Tiny short-shorts and leather harness was all he wore with a tail and bunny ears. Surprisingly, it had been Honey who picked the outfit, leaving Kyouya to believe Honey wasn't quite as innocent to the attention as previously thought.

Draining the cup, Kyouya puzzled over the enigma that was the 'Wild One' of the Club. Mori was once again the star of the show and had taken to it like a Master to a Slave. Clad once again in leather trousers, a harness and various chains, Mori had swaggered around for weeks and Kyouya was noticing. Not in a good way...Hastily dragging his thoughts back from Mori and his backside, Kyouya slammed the mug down and squirmed in his seat. Sweet Mercy, these trousers were _tight!_

Haruhi finished her cup and get to her feet. "ready to face the music, " She quipped.

Kyouya groaned and stood up. He walked out, his trousers uncomfortably tight. Tamaki was waiting nervously, hopping from foot to foot. "Mother! Will everything be alright?" He babbled, "Did we order everything? I knew we should have got some of those neon-" SLAM. Kyouya's made itself familiar with Tamaki's face. Ahh. Now that felt better.

Renge's voice sounded through the stage and the music cued...And they all walked on stage to their poles.

As Kyouya took centre stage, he gazed over the moe-ing girls. Tamaki took the pole to his left, Honey to his right, and the twins on the dais at the back. And Mori...He rose up on Renge's platform, the girl herself having given it up for the greater YAOI goodness. A whip cracked over Kyouya's head and he instinctively tilted his head back and arched his back. Just briefly, he thought he saw a flash of something in Mori's eyes but he couldn't swear to it.

The music cued and as Hit Me Baby One More Time pounded out over the speakers and he started to weaved around the pole before him, Kyouya entertained several other fantasies which involved a pole and plenty of hitting of a different sort.


	4. The Power of The Fangirl Imagination

Tell me what you think?!

Cheers.

And I know this one isn't as funny as the others. It was a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. I thought of it when I was cleaning the bathroom and just happened to see the stairs out the corner of my eye. Then I thought, well...let's make them the Ouran Academy stairs and let's make some Kyouya suffering out this. Add a little bit of Haruhi, a sprinkle of Mori, a healthy dollop of fangirls and bingo! An Ouran fic.

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**The Power of The Fangirl Imagination**

Kyouya was late. For the first since he was about six years old, he was late. Not very late, of course. He wasn't that far gone yet, but still...Four minutes late. He, the Shadow King of the Host Club, the Vice President of the Madness House, the co-owner as it were, was late. L-A-T-E.

He paused at the top of the stairs, catching his breath. Running all the way from his music lesson over in the music classroom, all the way over the other side of the school, had made him a little ruffled. Not very of course. He had an image to uphold after all. Though, he thought darkly, after the last few weeks of Host Club activities, his image was basically shot, lying in pieces in the middle of the road, then someone's cow did a cowpat on top of it, along with his pride and dignity. It was all Tamaki's fault he decided as he stepped forward...And missed his step completely.

Tumbling down forty-tree steps head first was not a pleasant way to travel them, he thought idly, as he came to a gentle stop at the bottom. Oww... Taking stock of his wounds, he noticed a very painful bruise on his knee. Wonderful. And he had been planning to go to his family's private health centre again. Rolling over to sit up, he became very aware of a large painful patch on his, ahem...left buttock as it were. He was half inclined to swear but he was an Ootori heir, and they do not swear. Ever. Expect in very special circumstance involving his oldest brother, a rubber doll of _special_ origins and a large amount of sake and a very important business guest who was paid lots of money to keep his mouth shut. Kyouya had been seven at the time, and still had nightmares about it.

He got to his feet very unsteadily, and proceed to walk-shuffle his way to the Third Floor Music Room. Very very carefully.

Upon pushing open the door, he came upon a distraught Tamaki and an exasperated Haruhi. Predictably Tamaki dived into him as soon as he spotted him. Kyouya's knee did not approve of this activity and proceeded to tell him with a viscous twang! of enormous pain. Kyouya was not having a good day. Not at all. "What?" His tone was faintly reminiscent of the ice storms in the North Pole region. Tamaki, as usual, did not notice.

"Mother! Tell Haruhi she must wear this!" He said shoving a something under Kyouya's nose. Pulling back several feet, Kyouya was able to establish was it was. A bikini comprised entirely of chains. Oh. God. Somewhere at the back of Kyouya's mind he wondered where Tamaki had found the blasted thing, the front of his mind warring with the images of Haruhi in it, and how to shoot the blonde prat down in the least tear inducing way. Not for the sake of nicety, you understand. The club opened in twenty minutes and he would not be the one explaining to clients that Tamaki would not be joining them that afternoon. Because he was currently growing mushrooms in a corner somewhere. His profit prediction would be shot for one thing.

In the end he went for the simplest option. "No." He said and turned away. Tamaki whined and protested some more.

Luckily, it was the twins who saved Kyouya from further temptation to smack the violet eyed twit.

"Hey King, we wouldn't mind seeing Haruhi in that." They said in unison.

"What?" Tamaki looked like he had been struck dumb. Oh, if only...

"It would be just like what she wore last night. For us."

"What? Mother! The Hellion Twins have been corrupting my darling daughter! Help me protect her!"

"Haruhi, go put on what we discussed last meeting." Kyouya's patience was dying a quick death today, it seemed.

"Yes..." She left quickly, slamming the door into one of the adjoining dressing rooms.

"Mother! Why did-"

"Shut. UP." Instant silence. "If her gender is revealed at any point during today's Club, then I will personally make sure you spend every day of the rest of you life at the mercy of my father's police force. As a hostage. Am I clear?!"

Mother had spoken. And the Club for once obeyed. Scary Mother, it seemed. Kyouya stomped off in the direction of another dressing room, snatching his costume from a handy chair. Slamming the door felt good, he thought, giving it a hard kick just for good measure. The last couple of weeks were taking away his last shreds of patience and God knew he had little in the first place. He dressed; the odd clothes no longer so odd to him any more. Buckling the collar into place, he wondered what would happen today. He had nothing schedule in a big way, not like the dance-thing like last time.

Forty minutes later, Kyouya was on his furs, chatting away to four very chatty girls, in his Maths class if he wasn't mistake. He shifted uncomfortably. Damn, that bruise in that place was really starting hurt. It felt like it was throbbing in time with his heart beat. Ow. _Ow_. Ow. _Ow._ Ow. He shifted, again and again. This was _painful._

Honey squealed joyfully from his school desk, probably over a new cake in the compartment, in said desk. The pervert school uniform was back in place, tighter than before.

The twins reclined on their bed, surrounded by moe-ing fangirls. He ignored them. He wasn't quite ready to deal with them. He was still thinking of a punishment for them. Come to think of it...his father's police force needed some people to act as live targets in their latest training manoeuvre. Maybe he could 'volunteer' the red heads and the blonde twerp who was still harking on in his princely poetical tongue. Oooh...If only Kyouya could throw his teacup. But of course he wouldn't. He was an Ootori heir. And they do not throw things. Besides it was a very expensive Victorian antique. Such a waste if he wasted it throwing it at the dolt over there.

Haruhi came wandering by as he shifted once again. "Another cup of coffee for my fellow...slave?" Haruhi's maid outfit was an oldie but goodie, he noted as she curtsied and then dropped to one knee to allow him to choose a cup from her selection on the tray. He hovered over the instant, wavered between the Brazilian nut and the English blend, before settling for a tall frappachino with whipped cream, and a dash of chocolate powder. He sipped it and the brunette opposite him said, "What's that you're drinking, Kyouya-kun?"

"A frappachino, my lady. A wonderful drink, to be sure. May I offer you one?"

"Ooh...Yes please. I'd like one of those if you please." She said to Haruhi pointing to the tall glass mug in Kyouya's hand.

"Us too!" The other three told Haruhi, as she noted it all down on a pad.

"I'll be right back with it Madams." She left, presumably to the kitchen and Kyouya sipped his frappachino. Wait...was that? Yes. Yes it was. Haruhi, dear darling Haruhi had added vodka to his frappachino. Not traditional to be sure, but a welcome gesture. He would be sure to take some off her debt for her help with this crazy idea from the last several weeks. Perhaps a quarter? Or...it was a lot of help. A third then. Yes. A third.

Soon, Haruhi had weaved her way back through the crowds and was handing out the requested drinks out to the girls. "Haruhi." He said on a whim. "Do you have any designations today?"

"No...I only had some for the first twenty minutes. I don't think I have any more today until half past four. Is there a problem?"

"Not at all. Would you care to join me, chatting to these excellent ladies about Mathematics? I know you achieved well on your last exam in it." An excellent ploy to ensure there would be no more Tamaki leaping on her for the next couple of minutes anyway. They had already lost four cups and a teapot to that, today.

"Certainly. Madams with your permission." They gave it and with that, she plonked herself, crossed-legged and engaged in conversation about Maths.

Kyouya shifted once again. Oh Lord, it was starting to hurt now.

"Kyouya-kun?" One of the ladies looked at him with concern. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, my lady."

"Oh, you just keep shifting-"

"Oh! I bet I know why!" The blonde on the far left looked ecstatic and slightly...perverted. Oh no. Oh NO. "I bet he's just had his first spanking!" She went on to say, "And I bet it was from Mori-kun!"

She. Did. Not. Just. Say. That. Oh God no...Everyone in the club as looking at him and horrors of horrors, Mori, just happened to be standing right behind him...This day was not getting any worse. Truly it had hit rock bottom. Ouch, there went another pun. The twins were looming, looking devious, Tamaki was still swooning over the whole thing, Honey was sitting there with cake hanging out of his mouth and Haruhi was covering her face with her hands. Her shoulders were shaking suspiciously. But apparently the argument was still going strong.

"No way! I bet it's because Mori-kun took him last night for the first!" You WHAT?! "And it was done with blindfolds and silken sheets and passionate love making!-" What. The. Fuck?!

"No, you're both wrong!" Yet another girl joined in, "It was Mori-kun who took him but it was fast passionate and dominating with whips and chains and lots of leather! Mori-kun caned him on the bare backside for daring to talk with a very pretty girl because Kyouya-kun snuck out at night to go see her, and Mori-kun found out and..."

Kyouya switched off at that point. He turned and buried his head in Haruhi's shoulder. She in turn, took his frappachino from his limp hand and turned to face him. As she patted him on the head and said, "It'll be alright...Somehow..." in his ear, he heard the rest of the argument about which he was so uneasy in his seat. Apparently it had drawn even more competitors eager to spill their scenarios and fantasies. He stopped listening when he heard "Foursome with Mori-kun and Hikaru and Karou!"

From his position of his head buried somewhere near Haruhi's collar bone, he thought fretfully what would be so difficult to believe about him falling down the stars. He felt too much like crying to say so though. As cries of "Bondage!" and "No! Blindfold SEX!" were banded around the room, and a certain someone's hand made their way to his back and began to rub, he pondered on the mystery that was girls. They were so confusing. So prim and proper when in public but show them some hot boys (and one girl pretending to be a hot guy) and they all turn into a loony raving about bondage and Yaoi. Well, you live and learn.

When the certain someone's hand started to make a massage out of the whole thing and girls started saying, "See! Mori-kun is making it all better after Kyouya-Kun was disciplined!" he felt himself start to shake. It felt so weird, so surreal to be sitting her, head buried in someone else's neck and a very hot someone rubbing circles on your back while girls discussed whether you had had blindfold sex or had been taken hard and rough over a wooden bench in a park in broad daylight.

Kyouya wondered whether now was an appropriate time to take that holiday his psychologist was offering him.

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Review? Please? It's exactly...23.28 at night now. Please review. Help a tired Ouran addict?


	5. The Comforting Madness of Hosts

Well, let's see. We've had clothes, we've had pets, we've had pole dancing and we also had spanking. Well, I decided to go more serious and produce this. Basic crap, pretty much what always happens when I get my hands on a fandom.

Just thought of shoving Mori, Kyouya and Haruhi together, a simple plot from which this...abomination arose, so you know...Review and tell me what you think.

Thank you,

Oh by the way, much thanks to –

**Sakura Angel 4eva**** –** It's nice to know you feel sorry for them. Unfortunately for them, I plan on torturing them some more. And oh no. I think Mori can go a lot further before he's gone too far. Much further –evil laughs!-And here ya go, enjoy.

**loretta537**** –** Thanks! And it's nice to know I made somebody laugh with my weird and twisted sense of humour. It's very strange. It's not nice to know you forgot all about this story though – cries – I hope this chapter will not allow you to forget me again! And yes, poor poor Kyouya. Unfortunately for him, I'm not through with him yet. Not for a long while.

**Punk Pikachu**** –** Ooh...Okay. Here you go. Here's more... and also I agree. Mori is perfect for the Dom position. Just never got the chance before.

**Hack.Drawer**** –** Oh dear. I do hope you and your keyboard are alright. It would be a terrible shame to miss this and the next chapter. XD. Thanks for reviewing, though!

**AyriesKukku**– Cheers my dear friend – hopes you're still alive out there -

**garrettignasia** – THERE YA GO! Enjoy!

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**A Comforting Madness**

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Kyouya was for the first time in nearly a month, very very happy. Insanely so. If he was more like Tamaki he would be sporting a grin fit to split his head in two. Since he wasn't, he was merely wearing a very tiny smirk. The reasons for said happiness was very simple. Insanely so. But it was oh so wonderful!

He had left early from school today, missing the Host Club. Simple.

Kyouya's father was holding a very important party for several prospective clients and all the Ootori family was required to attend. So aunts, uncles, various cousins and several relatives Kyouya had never seen before were all crowding the mansion but still. He didn't mind. Even if that little girl in the pink dress did keep trying to smear his very expensive Italian hand made suit, with a black shirt and an open neck collar that would feed a family of six in Africa well into the next decade. Because of this party, Kyouya had been pulled from school at three o'clock, taken by limousine to his family mansion and briefed on the party and its guests. He now knew every guest by name, could pick them out from a distance and knew many of their 'hidden' secrets. It paid, apparently, to have a secret police force to find out dirt on very important people.

He took one last look around his bedroom, adjusted his shirt, relished the feeling of not wearing a collar with the label of Kyouya-Manly-Bitch on it nor wearing a very very uncomfortable harness and departed. Locking his door behind him, of course. It wouldn't do for anyone to get into his room. He did not need to be convincing some drunkard why he should not throw up in his room at three o'clock in the morning, again.

Walking down the stairs, the sounds of the party drifted up to meet him. Even though it was only just past four o'clock in the afternoon, the party was in full swing with more than one hundred in attendance. Such a business venture and maybe he'd get to meet some nice clients who he make some money with. Very business minded was our Kyouya.

He ingled with the crowd, opening the front door and welcoming people into the Ootori family home. He laughed, he danced, he introduced himself to several important people and tasted three different wines and sent back three dishes back the kitchens due to a hellish presentation on all of them. Apparently he head cook was now crying bu t, it was a business party. Just heaven for our little mini business man in the making, Kyouya. Of course, it couldn't last.

Someone knocked on the door. It sounded actually more like a sledgehammer being slammed into the wood but some business partners were Western and didn't know how to knock quietly. Horribly uncouth people many of them, but then you often found the most money in them, so the uncouthness was tolerated. Just barely.

He swanned down the stairs from where he shown a guest a portrait, hardly aware of the several other guests who had gathered to see who the knocker was. He reached the door, ran a hand through his hair and smoothly swung it open. "Welcome to the Ootori partner-"

"Mother! We were so worried when you didn't come to the club!"

No. Freaking. Way. But there on his doorstep was four of the people he least wanted to see. In the whole world.

Tamaki, clad only in very short leather shorts, a harness and that ever present collar was bouncing around saying, "Of course, I knew Mother wouldn't want me to allow him to miss the Club! Honey wouldn't stop crying, Mother and the Twins kept on molesting our Darling daughter and everyone was crying because Mother wasn't there to provide entertainment and pleasure to our lovely guest-"

Behind Tamaki Hikaru and Kaoru, wearing only corsets and short shorts, were practising for their acts, and Honey beside them was clutching Bun-Bun and looking very very miserable. Ah. It was nearly time for his nap and he was far from a bed. Oh God. He was turning into a mother, fretting about nap times.

Tamaki was still burbling on about how his mother wouldn't have missed the first time Mori swung Haruhi up in her new outfit- Hang on. Where were Haruhi and Mori for that matter? They should have come with the rest of the Host Club, in a limo, Tamaki's if he wasn't mistaken. This was an unmitigated disaster, of the first degree. His only hope was to get them off his doorstep and through the front gates, before anyone noticed. Fingers crossed he could pull it off. He turned ready to summon some of the security detail lurking around, when the door in his hands went SHOVE and he fell ten feet across the entrance hall.

Kyouya stared at the ceiling while he waited for the world to stop spinning. Tamaki prattled on next to him and twins could be heard exclaiming over some guest's clothes in the far distance. Tamaki crawled to his side practically shrieking "Mother! Are you alright? Mori didn't spank you again, did he? I told him it was too soon after last time, and he took you right after didn't he?"

Kyouya shut his eyes, threw an arm over his face and wished the ground would swallow him up. He vaguely heard some of the guests in the entrance hall and then of course they called for their friends and family. He opened one eye and lifted his arm just enough to see what was happening. The hall was lined with guests laughing and joking at the blonde haired twerp still kneeling at Kyouya's side, ranting about Kyouya's spanking at what seemed the very top of his lungs. The twins were gesturing at some painting or other, and Honey was standing in the entrance way, clutching Bun-Bun pitifully. And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse...

"Tamaki-Sempai, No!" Haruhi's voice drifted up from the outside. The crunch of gravel and the sound of shifting gears confirmed the fact hat she had come on a bicycle. She threw her bike down and pounded up the stairs. All nineteen of them. Kyouya had counted them. "Damn!" she stopped in the doorway, just behind Honey. Her maid's uniform seemed especially raunchy in front of his father's guests. The garter belt flashed as she stepped past the shorter boy and the stockings whispered as she walked. "I was too late, wasn't I, Kyouya-sempai?"

"Yes. Yes, you were Haruhi." He felt like crying, more than last time. He dragged himself upright with her help and tried not to notice the guests all staring at him. Shuffled over to the door, and leant his head on it.

"They left me there at the club – I had to close it properly..." She trailed off. "I rode as hard as I could-"

"You did your best Haruhi." He really wanted to cry now. He started to swing the door shut only for it to catch for some reason. He shoved at it more forcefully and then the door, for the second time that day, shoved him back. Sprawled this time nearly twenty feet from the door, he could watch in amazement as Mori strode through the door. His day was not improving.

"You weren't at the club." Mori's voice sounded like velvet. Out of the corner of his eye he saw several of the female guest swoon at his voice.

"Mori-master! You made it!" The twins joined in. They did not just call Mori that...They did.

"Hn." Duh...

"Will you take him over your knee for not turning up to the club? Or will you cane him like last time? Can we video tape it? It would be good for the patrons to see our Shadow King to be taken down a step!"

"...Maybe." Kyouya's head snapped around that that. You what?! Oh he did not just say that? He did not! Not in front of all these guests! Surely.

He spotted his sister, dressed in black over near his left side, still mixed in with the crowd of guests. He called to her.

"Fuyumi?"

"Yes, Kyouya?"

"Please call the psychiatrist. Tell her I like to take that holiday now. Please."

"Ah certainly."

"Haruhi?"

"If you don't mind." She knew what was going on.

"I don't. Please make that for two, Fuyumi."

"Certainly."

"Thank you."

Kyouya moved to sit up. He felt very very weary, as if he had run a marathon. Haruhi moved in front of him, also on her knees. She tipped his head forward and he fell forward into her neck. It was warm and smelt of Haruhi. Instant coffee, a slight hint of the deodorant she wore, vanilla flavour and distinctly something Haruhi.

"Tamaki." When the blond twerp responded, Kyouya overrode whatever the dolt was going to say. "Please, go home."

"But Mother-"

"Go. Home."

For a second it sounded like he was going to protest then, thank the gods the idiot finally obeyed orders and said, very quietly... "I think I'll go then, if you don't mind."

The twins murmured an assent and Honey said a mournful "Bye, Kyo-chan."

"Haruhi, daughter, Mother wants some alone time-"

"No." Mori had spoken. Kyouya just buried his head deeper in Haruhi's neck.

"Kyouya?" Haruhi lifted his head off her shoulder. "Are you crying?"

He lifted one hand to his face. It was wet with tears, like he was weeping an ocean. Strange. It had been a long time since he had cried, even longer since he had cried silently. A hand in his hair, and his head was pulled up gently to see Mori, standing just behind Haruhi. A gentle hand brushed through the tears and he closed his eyes. Maybe, just maybe. It wouldn't be so bad to be in the Host Club.

Suddenly he was airborne. The he came down with a gentle whump! over a broad shoulder, and silver chains clinked somewhere around his waist. Of course. He was over Mori's shoulder and the chains were what doubled as a necklace for Mori. Haruhi's face, pale and with large brown eyes, peered up at him, from his rather undignified position. Although, after today, he really didn't think he had any left. Mori's hand snuck around to grab Haruhi's and she too was pulled to her feet. Mori didn't let go of her left hand and she reached up with her right one and grabbed Kyouya's. He didn't shake her off.

The three of them walked slowly over to the stairs and the crowd parted for them like the Red Sea before Moses. Carefully, Mori traversed the twenty three stairs and Haruhi followed them.

The last thing Kyouya heard was a man turning to his father and saying, "Well, it's nice to know your family is supportive of alternative lifestyles."

Kyouya just buried his head into the back of Mori's shirt and tried to ignore the hand stroking his ass.

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Kyouya's just getting shredded in BDSM ain't he?

Review and tell him how you feel (and me), please!


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